


So A Faunt, an Elf, and a Man walk into Dale

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Coma, Heartbroken Bilbo Baggins, M/M, Mpreg or Garden!dwobbits idc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" Hobbits are more like elves than men. Bilbo is fading, barely holding on to raise his daughter. His daughter thinks it's high time to stop this nonsense and travels to Erebor to get the help Bilbo needs.  Together with Aragorn and Legolas, she knows there is no way this plan could fail. Thorin has no idea what's going on." HKM Prompt</p>
            </blockquote>





	So A Faunt, an Elf, and a Man walk into Dale

Standing in front of the tall oak, her heart is filled with sorrow for what might have been. She touches the thick trunk, feeling the pull of the earth as well as the call of stone and really, isn't that just her life summed up? She's always had one large, booted foot in each world though the world of Erebor has been just a distant dream, something her father told stories about when she was just a fauntling. It wasn't until she was about to came of age, when he had no choice but to admit he was succumbing to an illness of the heart, that she had learned that these stories were based in truth.

Stunned as she was, perhaps excited as well, mostly she focused on the hope it offered; if her other father, the one who lived and ruled in the East, would forgive Bilbo for his betrayal, perhaps he could be given a few more years of improved health with Bel. She wasn't foolish enough to think her parents would reunite; she just asked for a few more years, just alittle more time for laughter at tea time, the braiding of hair after supper, and the discussion of growing the best tomatoes. Mere days after learning the truth, she had begun preparing to leave, finding companionship in a Ranger of the North and an elf, both of whom Gandalf assured her were trustworthy when he'd suggested heading East for help. Perhaps that should have tipped her that something adventurous, and entirely un-respectable lied in her heritage, that she had grown up knowing a wizard much like the ones in her father's stories. And really, it hadn't been a great surprise; the hobbits of the Shire, while careful not to say anything within earshot of the Mad Took-Baggins, treated her as a visitor to the Shire, not one who belonged.

But did she belong here instead, she thought as she took in the bustling city, the dwarrow and men milling about, the magnificent mountain in the distance, and then in particular the red headed guard currently speaking with an intrigued Legolas. She couldn't say and despite it all, her heart was a mess.

"We are to be received by the King, " Strider comments suddenly from her left, his posture stiff though his eyes are twinkling, " Apparently just the mention of a Baggins from Bag End has them in an uproar."

Bel sighs, tugging at the twin black braids hanging from her chin; originally she had felt self conscious letting it grow out on their journey as she had been bound by different rules in the shire. However, she found herself more relaxed this way, especially when no one balked at her masculine travel wear nor her numerous (but meaningless) braids either.

Lowering blue eyes as she mutters some sort of response, she can feel homesickness stirring in her heart in spite of all the things she disliked about the kindly West. After all, it still housed her father, the very reason she had made this journey, though it was so hard to leave him behind. The mithril shirt felt heavy; the ring in her pocket seemed like all its power had abandoned it; Sting felt like a toothpick insteady of a comfort. What was she doing here, when her father needed her so many miles away? Could she really succeed? Actually, should she even be asking that, she thought with sudden determination? Her father needed her and even if...even though it was likely that King Thorin would reject her request for aid to a traitor, she couldn't give up. She had to try for the father who read to her nearly every night, sang to her when she was sullen, cared for her despite his failing health, encouraged her in all endeavors be they dwarvish or hobbitish...no, she could care less if a stubborn, old dwarf acknowledged her as his daughter. She only hoped he would write one single letter, or offer some small token to show her fading father he was forgiven.

"Interestingly, they said nothing of a hobbit traitor to Erebor, " Bel blinked in confusion, having not heard Legolas' approach, even with his dwarven companion now trailing behind him, " Master Gimli, why don't you reiterate what you were telling me?"

"Why, the tale of the Brave Barrel-rider? Ay, a great tale it is so I s'pose I can entertain ye company as well. Ye see, thirty three years ago today, Erebor was reclaimed by a wizard, a company'a dwarrow to which me adad and me uncle were two, and one small halfling."

"And what does this have to do with barrels?" Strider inquired.

Gimli cackles as he takes them to the main road leading to the mountain; he shares a look with Legolas before turning back to the Man, "Ay, ye'll find barrels are a new beginnin'!"

\---

"Bellais Baggins, daughter of Bilbo Baggins. At your service, King Thorin, " Bel addresses nervously, only to see a cheeky smile spread across the face of who she believed to be the leader of the Lonely Mountain dwarrow; she is quickly corrected.

"He is not available, Miss Baggins. I am Prince Fili- "

"And I'm Prince Kili!"

The blond dwarf sends a withering look to the dark haired dwarf to his left (the white haired dwarf and the tattooed, bald dwarf on the right just stare), before facing forward once more. He stands from the throne with a searching look, then smiles weakly at the three of them, Gimli having tittered off, " I see that your father did not make the journey as well. We...we would have liked to see him."

"I'm afraid that is the reason I have come, " Bel says, relaxing at the warm welcome though curious about the location of King; did he refuse to see them afterall? She cleared her throat, " We were-"

"Where is his Majesty? " Legolas interrupts, hands clasped behind is back as if he's only inquired about the weather; the dwarrow scowl at him, " I do hope he is well but we believed that our reception was with him."

  
"Bilbo!"

The doors to the throne room open and three dwarrow charge in, one in a floppy hat, one with a salt n' pepper beard and a manic gleam in his eye, and the other with a braided orange beard a great belly. Feeling overwhelmed, Bel looks to Strider and Legolas, but they also look like they know not what to make of things.

"Not here, " the bald dwarf finally speaks; the hatted dwarf deflates and then turns to look at her curiously before another grumble comes from near the throne, " His daughter's come."

"Daughter?" the rotund dwarf asks with stunned eyes, " She looks like-"

Finally, the white haired dwarf speaks, intervening in what seemed about to turn into an argument between the strange intruders, " Miss Baggins...I hope you will share with us your reason from traveling so far, but after a small adjournment. I believe there is something of urgency that we should see to."

Prince Fili looks startled, "Balin-"

"Urgency?" Legolas inquires with a raised brow but Bel is quick to intervene, "I-I understand. We can return tomorrow or the following day-"

The dwarf, Balin, sighs heavily, " I'm afraid this matter is one that requires your presence, Miss. If you will follow me-"

"Could we not hear more about this issue before we are taken around?" Strider asks sternly, " We have only just arrived and though we were promised the King, and we do appreciate the swiftness of your reception, we find ourselves met with every dwarf but. What is this urgent matter-"

"Best you see for yerself, " the bald dwarf says and Bel, stunned, allows herself and her companions to be led by a company of seven dwarrow through the halls of Erebor.

\---

"He does not wake, " Bel whispers, looking at the still form of the King; her words earn no response and she wonders...if she touched the pale, thin dwarf's hand, would it be cold? Would it be calloused? When it soothe her worried heart like Bilbo's hand always did? Worse, and she cursed the child like thought, were the king's eyes truly the same shade of blue as her own? And what would those blue eyes hold? Confusion? Disgust? ...Love? The last didn't seem so inconceivable now because to be affected this way, then Thorin did not see Bilbo as a traitor, as the hobbit believed.

"He was gravely injured, at the Battle of the Five Armies. "

"That was 33 years ago, " Strider intoned; Balin nodded at him.

"Yes, and our healer Oin believed the King would die. And yet, his wounds healed. He simply never woke. His heart still beats, his chest still rises, and he takes the broth and water we offer. But despite our efforts he lies sleeping and for some time, we had hope he would wake or that..."

A long pauses forces Bel to prompt, " That?"

"That our beloved burglar would return to him."

She's startled and tears prick her eyes; all this time- Legolas places a hand on her shoulder, his face blank but eyes sympathetic. He can likely see that she's torn between grief and hope and disappointment all the same.

"How does he live for so long, in this state?" Strider asks in awe, " You have healers tending to him, constantly?"

"Yes, " Balin agrees, " We do what we can in providing care, and with the appearance of this lass, we have another clue as to what has kept Thorin tied here. Bilbo is declining in health as well?"

"Yes, " Bel bites out as the princes murmur amongst themselves, " H-he has been for some time. Likely without me, he would have given up long ago. He wanted to be sure I was alright on my own-"

"Does this not mean time is of the essence?" Strider takes in their looks with ease, " The King sleeps and Bilbo grows weaker each day. He could hardly walk when we began our journey two months ago. "

Bel looks sharply at the Man, " The letter is no longer feasible, and it is not as if Papa can travel. That's another four months after all-"

"Could we not bring Uncle to the Shire then?"

The room turned to look at Kili in alarm, Balin sputtering at the idea though the younger dwarf pressed on, " He has been stable for over thirty years. Oin has said that many times. And the journey, if we call on our allies, we can be swift-"

"And how would we transport him? Hm?" Fili sighed, "Brother, Greenwood may be safer than when we originally made our journey but the Misty Mountains are still dangerous-"

"Gandalf."

Strider's voice broke through the impending argument and Bel brighten because this, this was a feasible idea. Gandalf knew the Eagles; and the Eagles had helped her father...fathers before. Perhaps they would be agreeable, if the wizard made their plea for them- she smiled hesitantly at the dwarrow as she started to regain her confidence, looking to her companions and then at the slumbering King. Maybe, if the wizard could be contacted soon enough, they did have a chance.

\---

"He took to bed not long after you left, " Hamfast had explained carefully, " We...been looking out for him, hoping you'd make it back in time."

"Is he-" Kili whispers.

The old hobbit frowns but leads them inside his smial, finally calling over his shoulder with some uncertainty, " Not yet. Not...yet."

\---

"Thorin..."

Bilbo's voice is weak as he takes in the form sharing a bed with him; he'd fallen asleep after Mrs. Gamgee forced come broth down his throat and woken to not only to his beautiful daughter (her beard was just as magnificent as he imagined it'd be), but a crowd of familiar faces.

"Uncle Bilbo, " Kili tests, his smile sad, " You should have stayed, or atleast written! You were never a traitor."

"T-the stone-"

Dwalin huffs, " Not worth all this mess."

Stunned and perhaps thinking this all a dream, an overwhelmed Bilbo continues to stare at the form beside him, finally asking shakily if the king had been hurt. His response is a room full of uncertain and upset eyes; finally, Bel speaks, "Papa, Thorin fades as well. He has not woken since the day you left."

Bilbo looks shocked.

"Dwarrow only love once, " Bel explains, gripping her father's bony hand, " Perhaps, when the sickness was gone, he would have taken back his words to you but you left before there was a chance-"

Bel pauses; Bilbo looks beside himself with grief, his breath turning ragged quickly but he manages to regain his composure when the four (one dwobbit, three dwarves) move from rigid standing positions around the bed to seats around the humble room. Then, Bel carefully lifts Thorin's cool hand, the skin still slightly rough, so that it falls over Bilbo and her joined hands. And maybe she imagines the return of color to her father's cheeks and a strange energy filling the room, but what she doesn't imagine is the flutter of eyelashes, the gasps from behind her, and the opening of blue eyes identical to hers.

END


End file.
